Treacherous Accusations
by Clairesse
Summary: Calintz and Serina are enjoying a peaceful life in Erestine after the birth of their son, until several unexpected and mostly unwelcome visitors turn up on the doorstep...
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I don't own any characters, locations, etc.

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Chapter 1: Shortcomings and Goings.

The colourful veil of twilight hung peacefully over the lush, sheltered landscape of Erestine, dyeing the clouds dusky shades of pink and lending the many rivers tones of purple and crimson to flaunt as they gurgled their musical way toward Lake Astine.

A light breeze shivered through the abundant grass, making it dance along to the melody of the brook, while small birds flitted here and there among the trees of this epitome of serenity.

The cry of a baby split the lull of the atmosphere in a small, homely house near the road to the Doren Ruins. A petite woman dressed in a maroon kimono rushed to answer to her child's distress.

'Oh, sh, sh, shh…' Serina gathered the baby in her arms and held him close. 'It's okay, I'm here now.' She crooned lovingly, caressing the child's soft skin. He whimpered, thrashing his arms around and catching some of his mother's auburn hair in his fingers. She grimaced, and gently detached it.

'Are you hungry?'

The baby stared dolefully up at her with his radiant blue eyes.

'Is that a 'yes'?'

He smiled slightly, and Serina carried him towards the living room.

'I thought so.'

The next day at around noon, Serina sat gazing into space on the large, plushy sofa in the lounge. Her three week old infant dozed peacefully beside her, and she couldn't help but notice the odd way in which he slept. He lay on his stomach, head rested on the cushion of the sofa, and his legs were tucked under his bottom, causing it to protrude upwards. It looked very uncomfortable, but he seemed content, so Serina left him to it.

The front door creaked, and she heard light footsteps in the porch. She leapt up, instantly alert, and ran to meet her husband.

'Calintz!' she cried, flinging herself into his strong, thin arms.

Her eyes were closed, but she could sense that he was smiling. He held her close, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

'Hello, Serina.' He murmured fondly. 'I'm back. Hopefully for good.'

They adjourned into the living room and Calintz chuckled fondly at the obscure position in which his baby son was lying.

'We really need to think of a name soon.'

Serina nodded blandly and sat down, gazing at her husband. He looked tired and a little windswept, but his grey eyes glittered with a satisfied gleam.

'I'm glad you're home.' She said with a meaningful smile. 'So, what was the problem this time? That call you received seemed pretty urgent.'

Calintz gave a nonchalant wave of his hand. 'The usual. Yason thugs were provoking some hot headed humans- clerics from the Holy Order of Eryu, to be precise. I was amazed at them; they, of all people, should be able to respect the peace and ignore taunts from the Yason. We don't want another war on our hands.'

Serina shifted in her seat. 'Well, with someone like you to keep the peace, there won't be.' She shuddered. 'No… there won't be another war…'

A light rain began to drum on the roof of the house. The infant beside Serina gave a tiny yawn and rolled onto his back, still asleep and breathing steadily.

Calintz spoke again. 'Did you know that Orha has been appointed as a Peacekeeper as well?'

Serina raised her eyebrows and shook her head. 'No.' she seemed taken aback. 'Doesn't he have enough to do already? Like… running a country?!'

'Apparently not.'

A small frown crossed the small woman's face, but it was quickly replaced with a sceptical expression.

'Hmm… I think he's biting off more than he can chew.'

Calintz shrugged. 'Orha seems quite at ease with his hectic life.'

His wife snorted, then snuggled comfortably into her seat and sighed.

'I'm glad I abdicated the throne.'

The pale haired man gave a small, rueful grin. 'So am I. I don't think being a Prince would quite have suited me. Besides, I would have been the only human in the Yason-Roven royal family, and I don't think your people would have taken too kindly to that, war or no war.'

Serina laughed. Calintz had changed, changed for the better. He smiled often now, and even chuckled at rare intervals. She had liked the serious Calintz, but she adored this new man he had become since the end of the war. Their marriage had been very public, and had, in effect, sealed the fragile peace treaty between the two races. Mistress Ladrinne; the Great Priestess of Amabat and Calintz's mother, had conducted the ceremony and since then, Serina had lived a relatively quiet life in Erestine with her husband, with old friends dropping by now and then.

The birth of their son three weeks ago had only been announced to a select group of good friends, all of which had given some sort of useful trinket to the baby: Mistress Ladrinne had brought a charmed bottle, Eonis a book of magic lore for when he was older, Azel a geckra teddy, and Chris…well, no one had quite worked out what the twisted piece of plastic he called an 'ingenious breakthrough' was meant to do yet, but he had brought some gorgeous blue bootees from Maya. Justina had sent a rattle fashioned like a miniature blue magic rod and Rianna some woollen mittens and a bunch of flowers for Serina.

As yet, Haren had not visited, so Serina made the (probably wrong) assumption that he simply had not heard the news. Haren's hatred for Yason and half-Yason alike still burned within him, and he had not approved of the fact that Calintz would be willing to be married to one. He had not been in contact since he had received the wedding invitation.

A confident rap on the front door interrupted Serina's musings. With effort, Calintz stood up and went to answer it.

She heard the click of the lock and her husband's startled exclamation of 'Orha!'

A deep, rich voice replied to this. 'Long time no see, Calintz.' The voice held a hint of coldness.

'Yes…' A long, awkward silence ensued, broken only by a roll of thunder from outside.

Orha Duren, a well built Yason and the steward of Yason-Roven stood on the cottage doorstep framed by the lightning that flashed across the sky. His sandy hair was plastered to his head by the heavy downpour and his clothes were soaked through and dripping. He was clutching a bouquet of white roses, and he held them out to Calintz.

'These are for Serina to congratulate her on the birth of your child.'

Calintz gave a curt nod and took the flowers from his former enemy. 'Thank you.' He said stiffly. 'Won't you come in?'

'Oh, well, I don't want to intrude.' The Yason said smoothly, water running from his ears onto his neck and back.

Serina bounded to stand beside her husband.

'Come in, Orha! Please. We have so much to catch up on!' Her soulful blue eyes shone with sincerity and appeal and a half smile softened Orha's harsh features.

'All right.'

He stepped into the lamp lit porch, creating puddles where he stood. Calintz moved carefully aside, and Orha squelched his way into the hall, leaving a trail of damp, muddy footprints behind him on the cream carpet. Serina grimaced, and showed him into the living room where her baby son was lying.

Orha gave a small grunt, though what it symbolised was a mystery to Serina. The former leader of the Four Warriors had always been an enigma, keeping his emotions guarded behind his endearing frankness and battle-worn exterior. Much like Calintz, she thought in surprise. So why couldn't they get along?

Serina realised with a jolt that both Orha and Calintz were sitting down, though on opposite sides of the room, and were staring expectantly at her.

'Hmm?' she said unhelpfully.

Calintz shifted uncomfortably, and Orha stretched casually, taking the liberty of removing some water from his ear as he did so.

'Orha, I'll get you a towel.' Serina started to get up, but Calintz beat her to it.

'I'll do it.' He paced quickly out of the room.

For the first time, Orha took a good look at the former Queen of Yason-Roven. It was astounding how much a person could change in two years, but taking into account all that had happened, it was hardly surprising.

She had gotten a little plumper, thought Orha approvingly, she used to be as gaunt and emaciated as a wraith. And her eyes-they were brighter than what they used to be, if that were possible. They glistened softly in the light like moonshine on midnight blue sapphires. She was lovely, with the glowing pride of a new mother. Yes, altogether lovely, and anyone would agree with him. Wouldn't they?

Orha's own green eyes narrowed. Thoughts like that were dangerous and futile, and best left untouched. But touched upon them he had, and was finding it difficult to stop. With a will of steel, he clenched his teeth and forced himself back to reality, only to find the object of his thoughts watching him calmly.

'Oh, ah…' he stammered, trying hard to keep his pale complexion and not quite succeeding.

He looked around frantically for a topic of conversation and noticed that Calintz had left the bouquet of flowers he had brought on a handy armchair beside a quaint oak table.

'These…are for you.' He muttered, and, standing up, he lifted them over to her.

'Thank you, Orha.' She said with a smile in the queenly voice he knew so well.

'My pleasure.' Orha gave a small, ornate bow then returned to his seat.

The tiny infant beside Serina moaned, then began to cry quietly. His mother lifted him and cradled him in her arms, rocking back and forth softly singing an Efferian lullaby:

'A journey through dreams,

O'er hill and glen.

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Sleep, sleep.

Until the magic stirs again.

Sleep, sleep….

A journey through time,

To tales untold.

Sleep, sleep….

That you'll retain in a heart of gold.

Sleep, sleep….

So cast off now,

Dream of magic anew.

Sleep, sleep….

And I shall be here

To watch over you.

Sleep..sleep..

The child dozed soundly in Serina's loving arms, his innocent face in perfect peace.

Calintz re-entered the room quietly, and flung a towel at Orha, who hadn't been expecting this, and promptly dropped it. He supposed that that was fairly appropriate, seeing as nearly all the water that had covered him had, by this time, run off him onto the floor.

Nevertheless, he picked it up and rubbed himself down with it.

An urgent banging threatened to break the front door from it's hinges, disturbing the awkward yet peaceful lull that had come over the room.

Calintz gave a quick and worried scowl before creeping warily to answer it, drawing precautionary Chi from the atmosphere in case of a hostile attack.

The varnished oak door burst open just as he reached for the handle, and a group of gloved and hooded men stormed in.

'Wha..?!!' Calintz was pushed roughly back, falling hard on his side. His concentration broke, and the Chi dispersed back into the air. Leather booted feet clumped hastily past him, and one lashed out at him, hitting him beneath the ribs and winding him. Calintz's eyes prickled with tears, and he felt bile rising in his throat. He had to get up…

As this frantic thought passed through his mind, he heard a shriek from the direction of the living room. Adrenaline screamed through his body, and breath returned easily to his lungs. His pain was forgotten in the blind panic that pervaded him.'

'Serina!!'

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End of chapter 1. Hope you liked it! Please review, a comment to tell me what you thought would be much appreciated!! Thanks; Clairesse.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Sweet Sacrifice

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Calintz leapt up and sprinted towards the source of the panic, drawing his sword from an ornate sheath beside the hall table. His wife was standing, arms spread wide, maintaining a circle of protection around their son. Orha was poised, his daggers in his hands, ready to spring if any of the men surrounding them dared to approach. He spoke in a commanding voice that carried across the room:

'Who are you, and why have you come here?'

One of the white hooded men stepped forward, an ugly grin spread on his features.

'You're in no position to ask questions.' He said dryly, and lunged forward, sword drawn.

A blinding flash of light. A clash of steel. The hooded man lay groaning on the floor, arms rigidly clasped over a shallow, but obviously painful slash across his stomach. Orha maintained a defensive stance, his daggers tinged with blood, emerald eyes flashing dangerously.

'If anyone else,' his tone was deadly quiet, 'thinks it wise not to answer my question, then let him approach.'

The hooded men hung back, looking uneasily at one another.

'We-' One of them started uncertainly. 'We think that you have a traitor in your midst.'

'A traitor?' Calintz stared incredulously. 'There is no such thing as a traitor, now. The war is over, and the Light of Salvation destroyed along with the Dark Yason.'

'Unfortunately, that is not the case. Over the past few months, there have been assassinations across Efferia, and we believe they are linked.'

'Oh?'

'And there is evidence that a small band of Dark Yason still survive, though they are dispersed, and are methodically picking off high ranking nobles in an attempt to restart the war. Just last week Lord Ayron, a wealthy landowner in Yason-Roven, was discovered in Maracatte with a dagger in his back.'

At this, Orha clenched his teeth, a furious look crossing his features. Ayron had supported him unquestioningly when he was made steward of the throne, and without him, who knew what would happen?

The cleric of Eryu stumbled on, frightened by the expression that contorted Orha's face.

'A-and we know that you Yason are extremely suspicious about the fact that he was found in human territory, but we examined the dagger, and it is very similar to the ones used by the Dark Yason two years ago. S-s-so there.'

Orha stared hard at the unfortunate cleric.

'That still doesn't explain why you so rudely interrupted a perfectly quaint social call.'

At this, the shaky nerve of the hooded man shattered, and he ran out of the room wailing: 'I-I'm sorry!!!'

Several of the remaining clerics raised one eyebrow, while another shook his head despairingly, muttering 'Ah, poor Clive. That's the worst I've seen him yet.'

Calintz pushed past to stand beside Orha, sword drawn.

'Well?'

'Well.' Said a gruff voice that seemed hauntingly familiar. 'We have a warrant for the arrest of Lady Serina.'

'Me?!' she squealed, her voice rising several octaves in anger. 'You think _I'm_ the one behind these attacks?!'

'You're part Yason. That's more or less what _defines_ a Dark Yason.'

'Not necessarily.' Orha's voice had once again become ominously quiet. 'Two of the Four Warriors were part of the conspiracy, as were some humans.'

'Hmph.' The voice growled. 'Then that more or less obliges us to take Calintz, too.'

'You will do no such thing!' Calintz snapped. 'On what grounds are these charges held against us? You can't condemn Serina for being part Yason!'

'We found -this- in your possession.' A shirt of leather armour was thrown at him, with a logo on it that Calintz knew he would never forget.

'But- this is the symbol of the Tears of Blood!' He looked up, aghast.

'It's also the symbol that Neikan/Agreian-the former leader of the Dark Yason, used to sign documents addressed to his underlings.'

The owner of the gruff voice stepped forward, and Calintz realised with a horrified pang why it was familiar.

'I'm sorry, Calintz.' Said Haren sarcastically. 'I'm just following orders for the sake of the human race.'

'Haren! What about the Yason? You should know better than anyone else how the Tears of Blood strove to eliminate hatred between the two races- to end the war. Most of all, you should know of the treachery of Neikan!'

Haren merely looked bored. 'But the tears of Blood helped him to recover the shards of the Light of Salvation.'

'He tricked us! Don't you remember? Calintz flared.

The tanned cleric gave a toss of his head. 'I have been ordered to bring Serina (and anyone else, if necessary) to the base of the Order of Eryu for interrogation. I must follow these instructions, or I will be discharged from the Order.'

Serina noted that he did not use the word 'Holy' in the title of his division. He had never much believed in anything spiritual. She sank to the floor, the full meaning of Haren's words stabbing her like the daggers in Orha's hands. She was half Yason and had briefly been a part of the Tears of Blood, and so the charges against her, however unreasonable, would undoubtedly veil horrible consequences. Serina blinked a few times to hold back the stream of tears that was trickling down her cheeks. What was once a blissful dream had now become an unbelievable nightmare. Haren spoke again:

'It's my dream, Calintz! Being paid to officially hunt Yason criminals!'

Orha's knuckles cracked as his grip tightened on his daggers.

'I should be the one to deal with them.' He growled.

'Oh, come now.' Haren spat. 'Let's not _fight_ about it!' He raised his fists in a provoking manner. Orha turned away.

'No…let's not.'

The cleric looked slightly disappointed. 'Anyway… Enough! I have... Oh, damn it... _Clive had_ a warrant for the arrest of one Serina Esthar. Geren.' He addressed one of the other clerics. 'Go and chase down Clive. Why he had the warrant in the first place, I just don't know…the doofus…'

A faint smile illuminated Calintz's features. Haren hadn't changed one bit. Perhaps this situation could be manipulated for the better. He suddenly looked grave.

'What will happen to Serina?'

Haren gave a nonchalant flick of his hand. 'I guess she'll have a fair trial and then face either prison or execution.'

'_What?!!!_' Serina shrieked.

'Hey, it's not my decision, it's the law.' Though Haren was clearly enjoying it.

'But I'm innocent! I haven't done anything!'

'That will be for the authorities to decide.' He motioned, and several clerics moved to lead Serina away. Calintz gave a strangled cry, and leapt forward, barring their way.

'I won't lose her again!' He snarled, brandishing his sword, which glowed with a silvery fire.

'Calintz…'

His anger was subdued by a soft voice. Serina was sprawled on the floor, rocking their squalling son in her arms. Her feathery auburn hair obscured part of her face, her blue eyes shining with the martyred pain of two years ago.

'I'll go. It's okay. I'm innocent, so what's the worst they can do to me?'

She really was as naïve as her sister.

'Miss Serina?' Orha had reverted back to what he used to call her. 'Justice in human territory is not as lenient as in Yason-Roven, Miss Serina. The chances are that you will still be facing confinement, or worse, if you consent to go with these men.'

'I…' Serina hesitated. 'If I prove my innocence, then we won't be bothered any more…' She held her baby close before standing and placing him in Calintz's arms. His face grew determined and he passed the child back to Serina.

'You need to stay here and look after him.' He told her. 'I'll go in your stead. It'll be okay. I promise.' And with these last words, he turned away, allowing the mildly disapproving clerics to lead him from the room.

'But…!' His wife called after him.

The front door slammed.

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Hope you enjoyed this cliff hanger of a chapter! Please review and tell me what you thought, and if anyone was OOC or not! Thanks. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Reflections

Haren, former member of the Tears of Blood, now a man of the 'law'; a cleric of the Holy Order of Eryu, trudged across the fine, bouncy grass on the trail to Caska. His former captain strode regally behind him, head held high, eyes glittering like tainted diamonds from behind his war-chiselled features. The landscape was gradually growing wilder as they passed out of the untamed paradise of Erestine, lush greenery transforming into a haggard struggle for survival.

The afternoon light was bright and harsh, making Haren squint as he picked a path among the fallen leaves and myriad broken twigs. As he had so often lately, he wondered whether what he was doing was right. The Holy Order of Eryu claimed to be acting on the best interests of humanity, but was that true? He was currently bringing his friend and comrade to appeal for his wife, and what crime had she committed? Certainly, she was half Yason, and there was the _possibility _that she was conspiring with others like her, but the Dark Yason were stolidly prejudiced against humans, and Serina was married to one. A feeling that Haren had seldom experienced flooded through him: sympathy for a Yason; a new, radiant mother. He sighed, but set his will and ambled on at a faster pace. That was not for him to decide. He was but a lowly messenger. General Tazma would deal with the Yason's fate.

'Where are we actually going?' implored that familiar voice form behind him. Haren looked a little uneasy.

'To the headquarters of the Order.'

'Yes, I assumed that.' Calintz said, vexed. 'But where _is_ that? It moves, doesn't it? From place to place? Not like the Tears of Blood HQ, which stayed in Garute near the Lester Woods.'

A sudden memory flashed back to the burly cleric, of the base of the Tears of Blood that he had called home for so long, of the training field and small living quarters that surrounded the main one storied building, of the bustle of daily life there, of Lehas, of Felicia…

A tree root abruptly halted the movement of Haren's foot, and he sprawled onto a bed of dry leaves. Cheeks burning, he rose cringingly and surveyed the bored looking clerics behind him, challenging one of them to snigger. The challenge, however, was not taken up. The other clerics were well aware of the damage that Haren could do, and pitied the victim who had unknowingly smirked the last time he had tripped; the unfortunate Clive.

As Haren turned his back to the rest of his 'colleagues', Geren emerged from the tangle of trees ahead of them, trailing the squirming and muttering 'victim'.

'You found him.' Haren gave Geren a blank look. He gave a laconic nod of assent.

'He was half way to Yason-Roven, but yes, I found him. He can run _very_ fast when he gets worked up.'

Clive gave a frightened titter. Haren snorted in disgust.

'Come on.' He gritted his teeth as a sharp pain shot through his foot, and stumbled on. 'We're heading to Notia. The base is there.'

They trudged through Caska, occasionally having to slay overly bold Geckra. The afternoon light was waning into a gentle sunset, its soft crimson glow filtering through the naked branches of the trees. The leaf riddled path ahead of them was bathed in dappled shades of red and orange, though Calintz noticed that Haren did not seem to appreciate the haunting beauty of it all. He trawled along; shoulders slouched, often kicking out at a stray leaf that scudded ahead of him, wearing a sour expression on his sharp features. Was he having doubts about Serina's guilt? He certainly seemed less enthusiastic than he had when they had set out from Erestine. Calintz sighed, and quickened his pace. The faster they got to Notia, the faster he could go home to his wife and son.

Night had fallen, but the clerics had not bothered to ignite Chi torches. They crested a slight incline, and the dark, almost prison like walls of Notia loomed before them. The reinforced gates creaked open as they approached, and they walked through a damp stone archway to enter the city.

Pools of silvery light radiating from Chi lanterns flooded the abandoned square into which they came, illuminating the stark stone walls of the terraced houses, and reflecting off the puddles dotted along the pavement. They strode at a brisk pace down a seldom used side street that smelt of fuel and decay, low walls lining their path. No lanterns were present, so the darkness enclosed them. Calintz could hear Clive muttering behind him, and supposed him to be afraid, but to his surprise a small white flame blossomed in the palm of the cleric's hand, sending light leaping to the furthest corners of the passage, illuminating the damp, moss covered bricks on either side of them. They walked on, often twitching nervously as a rat scrabbled rapidly across their path. At length, a building with tarnished wooden doors could be seen in front of them, the dim light of a single candle glowing through closed window shutters the sole sign of habitation.

Haren stamped moodily up the stone steps and flung the door open violently, causing it to rebound with a bang, and marched inside. Calintz followed more slowly, calmly taking in what he could see of his surroundings. After a minute, he raised an eyebrow and turned to Clive.

'Was this once…?' he started.

'The headquarters of the Azure Wings.' Clive cut in grimly. Calintz's eyebrow was raised further, and he strode after Haren. Clive followed, shaking his head. This ordeal was not going to be pleasant.

Not for the first time, Clive wished that he had the courage to stand up to his superiors, to rebel. He paused and frowned, then a slow smile spread over his pockmarked face. General Tazma had wanted Serina. Now he had Calintz instead. So in a small way, he _was _rebelling. Clive chuckled, rubbed his hands together, and ambled casually into the building.

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All right, this was a short and kind of boring chapter, I know, but transitions are necessary… Review it anyway, and tell me what you thought. Constructive criticism is also welcome!!  Thanks. 


	4. Chapter 4

Ok, this is yet another very short chapter; an exchange between Haren, Clive, and the leader of the Order of Eryu. I promise the next few chapters will be longer and better, I just haven't had time to do much writing, with exams and whatnot.. Anyway, enjoy!

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Chapter 4: The Calm Before The Storm.

General Tazma sighed and removed his tanned arm from its resting place on the marble mantelpiece. He had a splitting headache, probably caused by stress or exhaustion, and he sometimes wondered why he even bothered. He passed a hand across his brow, then a slow smile spread over his face as he remembered the squad of clerics that were returning with his prisoner. The Yason woman that would be the key to his plan.

The General jumped slightly at a curt knock on the door.

'Come.' He called, recovering his disciplined composure. The door swung open and two disgruntled looking clerics marched in.

'Ah! You're back. My orders were carried out?'

The larger of the two robed figures shifted slightly to stand at ease.

'Well…sir.' He added hastily. 'The Yason woman has a new born child, and…'

'Ugh! Filth! Yet another half breed to besmirch the pride of Efferia. You didn't dispose of it, or anything as useful as that, did you?'

They mutely shook their heads, shocked. An unidentifiable emotion flickered in Tazma's eyes, and he sniffed.

'Uh, sir…there was a complication.'

'And what was that?' the General hissed, gliding closer to the two men. Haren took a deep breath. He wasn't easily scared, and was astonished to find that his scarred hands were shaking slightly.

'Ah- General Orha was there.'

'And you didn't render him unconscious so that law and justice could be carried out?!' Tazma bellowed. The two clerics shrank back, cowed by the tempest their fiery General had become.

'Bring the girl in here.' He spat bitterly, rubbing his temples in vexation and walked behind his immaculate mahogany desk.

'Em, sir?' the smaller cleric volunteered.

'What?!' Tazma snapped.

Clive drew in a breath. 'I'm not sure how to put this, but Calintz came in Serina's stead.'

The General closed his hazel eyes, his thin lips set in a grim line.

'Why must I endure such incompetence?' he snarled in an undertone. He slammed his hand onto the desk and sighed yet again.

'Keep him in cell number 58 until I get my head together.'

The two men bowed in an apologetic manner and exited the room. Scuffling was heard, then the sound of retreating footsteps. Tazma fell into his chair, and set his head on top of his folded hands.

'Why me?' he murmured to the table. After a minute or so, he raised his eyes, a malignant glimmer rooted in them. A half smirk dawned on his rough features, and he nodded to himself.

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Hmhmhm.. A plot is afoot.. Don't forget to review:) 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Enigmas

Clive and Haren trooped out of the spacious room, closing the door reverently behind them. Calintz stood in the foyer, gazing at an old Azure Wings flight map. The two clerics exchanged glances, nodded, and stole up behind him.

Haren, suddenly losing his nerve, cleared his throat loudly, and announced: 'Hey, we have orders to keep you in custody until General Tazma can see you.'

'What?' Calintz spun round, his grey eyes flashing in irritation.

'Sorry. But I'm sure you'll be out of there in no time.' Clive added in a strange tone. 'Come on.' Haren seized Calintz's skinny arm in a vice like grip, and pulled him towards a ragged wooden door leading away from the main foyer. Startled into submission, the pale haired man stumbled obediently along, Clive pacing ruefully behind him.

The door led into a stagnant passageway lit by stuttering torches that lined the walls. At intervals between these torches were set rusty, prison like doors, the far side of which was not touched by the dim light. The musty reek of decay filled the air, and Calintz hesitantly allowed himself to be led through corridors of makeshift cells. Some were occupied; he could tell from the heavy breathing or hysterical, muffled sobs coming from inside. How long had these people been in there? How long would they have to stay before they were covered by the blissful shroud of death? Calintz shuddered and pushed away other dark thoughts that were gnawing at his mind. He couldn't give up. Serina and his son needed him.

Haren halted abruptly in front of a smaller cell and turned to face the prisoner. A nasty smile spread over his face, and he unlocked the door. It gave a rusty creak of protest as it swung open.

'In you go.' He sneered.

Calintz blinked and twisted his features into a dignified expression. 'Why should I have to wait around for _him_ to be ready to see me? It was Tazma who introduced these stupid charges, anyway. Didn't you tell him that I was here instead of Serina? Why should I go into this-this _cess pit_ when I'm completely free of guilt?' he blustered.

'Why indeed? I don't know. I'm only following orders for the sake of the human race. Now _go_.' Haren's leer changed to a grimace, and he shoved him roughly into the dank, darkened 'cess pit'. Calintz raised his head to catch a last glimpse of dim light before he heard the metallic clang of the door behind him, and was plunged into darkness. He sat for a moment, contemplating the injustices of the situation, before he heard it. A faint skittering noise against the opposite wall. Calintz grimaced. He was supposedly a fearless mercenary, but none of his missions had involved rats, the bane of this reputation.

'Calintz!' a voice hissed from behind him. He spun round to see the glimmer of Clive's eyes through the bars.

'Calintz.' He looked furtively around the passage behind him before continuing. 'I'm on your side. Remember that.'

Before Calintz could respond, he had scurried away in the direction of the foyer. The pale haired man let his hand drop from the bars of the cell. What was that supposed to mean? If Clive was on his side, then why had he left him down here to fester and be harried by his unfounded phobia of rats? Calintz sighed.

His eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness now. He could just about make out where the walls started and ended. He was in a rectangular room with a low ceiling about three metres by four metres. Calintz shuddered as the tapping noise commenced again, this time accompanied by shrill squeaks. He walked carefully to the corner opposite to which the noises were coming from, or tried to. On his way there, his thigh rebounded sharply off something hard, sending spasms of pain jolting down his leg. He felt along the object, and discovered it to be a makeshift wooden bench that was obviously supposed to serve as a bed. He sat, and reflected on what had happened. Why had Haren joined the Holy Order of Eryu? Why was Clive 'on his side'? Was there more to this than met the eye? He lay down, hunched against the cold, pondering these questions and drifted easily into a dreamless sleep.

'_Calintz? Calintz!!? Where are you?!' …………… 'It's been a while, Mano'…… 'So you're saying 'to hell with the past,' huh?'... 'Then I guess we're...enemies.'_

Calintz awoke with a violent gasp, the last image of Neikan still clinging to his sleep-numbed mind. He had been striding towards him through a mist; screaming Yason on either side. Calintz blinked twice, and rubbed the grime from his eyes.

'_Then I guess we're…enemies.'_

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Well, another chapter. Review!! Please!! You know I love reviews! 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Bonds and Enmities.**

Both Haren and Clive had received the summons to General Tazma's office, and that could only mean one thing: an unofficial mission was to be issued. The bulky martial artist and the nervous cleric mat in the foyer, now bathed in the light of the morning sun, and exchanged uneasy glances. What would it be this time? Something to do with Calintz, definitely. They each took a deep breath and performed the ritual game of 'rock, paper, scissors' to determine who would knock on the door and do most of the talking. Haren, unfortunately, lost, and stepped up to the ornate door while casting a furious glance at a very smug Clive. The tension rose, and one of the muscles in his eyelid decided to start twitching. He bit his lip, sweat beading on his brow, and knocked.

The sound reverberated around the deathly silent foyer like a judge's hammer in an astonished courtroom, making Clive wince and strain his ears for an answer. None came, and a beetle could be heard skittering along one of the chipped skirting boards. A few seconds passed, and finally a muffled, harassed voice replied: 'Come in.'

They entered meekly, eyes downcast, not wanting to upset the delicate internal balance of the General. Creeping up to the desk, Haren cleared his throat.

'You wanted to see us, sir?'

General Tazma set down his pen and looked up at them with his hawk like eyes.

'Yes, I believe I did.' Here he paused, and Clive noticed for the first time that he was wearing a shorter sleeved top, in contrast to his usual sleeves which normally covered his hands. An elaborate scar ran along his forearm, ending neatly at his elbow.

'We will stick to the original plan, I think.'

Haren looked to Clive in bewilderment, who shrugged.

'Yes, we will use Calintz as a substitute for his wife. Kill him. Spread the word around the Yason that the humans have executed their 'saviour'; their rightful king. Hopefully this will provoke them, another war will begin, and this time, there will be nothing to stand in the way of total elimination.'

Haren's jaw was slack; gaping at Tazma in astonishment. Clive frowned. Had the General lost his mind? His eyes strayed to Tazma's arm, and the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. It was not a scar that was so neatly carved into that arm, it was a tattoo; a Vindi through which he could draw Chi. To even have a Vindi suggested that he was at least half Yason, and that would suggest…

'You will accept this mission?'

Clive drew in a breath and glanced at Haren, who still seemed slightly shell-shocked. The martial artist blinked twice, a spasm of fury crossing his face.

'Why you son of a-'

'Yes, we accept.' Clive cut in quickly, hurling a significant look at Haren. The latter volleyed with a venomous, incredulous glance that said: 'what??'

'We accept.' Continued Clive in a shaky voice, fervently hoping that the General had not noticed Haren's outburst.

'Good.' Tazma said silkily. 'Get to it immediately. There's no time to waste. Dismissed.'

The two clerics dipped their heads slightly, and strode briskly from the office.

'What the hell are you doin'?!' hissed Haren, once they were out of earshot.

'I t-thought that we could buy Calintz some time, you know, warn him.'

Haren hesitated for a moment. 'Good plan.' He conceded eventually.

Clive looked grim: 'I had no idea that the General was a-'

'A Dark Yason?' Haren spat bitterly. '_They're _the filth of Efferia, not because they're mostly half breeds. Because of how they choose to live their lives.' These were possibly the wisest words Haren had ever spoken.

Clive nodded absently. 'Come on, we have to save Calintz.'

'You go.' instructed Haren, tossing him a bunch of keys. 'I…have some things I need to see to. Try and get him out. I'll meet you back up here.'

Clive looked troubled, but jogged off obediently through the grimy door leading to the prison cells. Haren passed a hand across his brow. He had always believed in General Tazma, even during the war, but now this faith had been brutally shaken. It seemed that all the people he deemed unworthy of his trust turned out to be the complete opposite, and vice versa. It was unfortunate, really. He shook his head and started in the direction of his chamber. He would probably never be coming back, so he needed to gather his belongings.

Haren walked fast, his eyes roving distractedly. He rounded a sharp corner, half running, and collided with two other clerics, one of petite stature and the other of lean, muscular build. Loosing a string of colourful curses, he stood upright and glared at the startled, white hooded figures. Their faces were completely obscured by folds of white material, and all he could make out was the gleam of their eyes.

'Sorry.' He mumbled gruffly.

The taller cleric grunted in an infuriating manner, staring straight at Haren. The smaller form looked up at his friend, who nodded.

In the blink of an eye, Orha had flung back his hood and was holding his cold, razor sharp daggers to Haren's throat.

'Take us to Calintz.' He hissed menacingly, the frosty bite of steel digging into Haren's neck. '_Now_.'

He swallowed and nodded once, staring resolutely ahead. Swivelling, he led the way furtively at dagger point, cursing himself for being so careless. He should tell Orha of Tazma's plan, but he didn't want to ally himself with a Yason, much less fall under the command of one. Suddenly, the full irony of the situation hit him, and he did something he hadn't done in years; he smiled slightly to himself. This was a sign that he was growing desperate.

Despite the cut he received on his back, he turned and explained the predicament hurriedly to the steward of Yason-Roven and his companion. Orha became grave.

'And of course, you were planning to aid Tazma in his plot?'

Haren screwed his face up defiantly. 'No, of course not!'

'How do I know I can trust you?'

'I wouldn't murder my former captain! No matter how much I dislike his wife!'

'Oh _that's _nice of you.' Commented Serina dryly from under her white robe. Haren cringed. He had not realised, in his current state of mind, who Orha's companion could be.

'Nothin' personal…' he muttered before starting to shamble forward again. Why couldn't he keep his big mouth shut? They strode into the abandoned foyer, their footsteps clicking on the tiled floor. Casting a quick, nervous glance toward the General's office, Haren signalled Orha and Serina into the prison. A thought suddenly struck him as the auburn haired woman passed him.

'Where's the baby?' he grunted inappropriately. She swivelled and looked him straight in the eye.

'Is that any of your business?' her tone was icy.

'So now I'm not allowed to be curious? Geez, what are you, Lehas junior?'

Serina stared incredulously and walked on with a toss of her head. 'He's mad.' She thought sullenly as she paced steadily after Orha.

Haren was still standing at the door of the passageway, contemplating who Serina would have trusted to baby-sit for her on such short notice. He frowned and, when he could not figure it out, raised his eyes to see if his companions were waiting for him. The sound of their footsteps was already dying away in the dimness of the passage. Hurriedly murmuring and drawing Chi, Haren dimly illuminated the torches resting in iron brackets along the wall. Light flickered and reflected on the damp floor, casting luminous patterns through the doors of the cells. Immediate shuffling and soft cries came from within these as the wretched prisoners endeavoured to hide their eyes from the unaccustomed brightness. Haren sauntered casually after Orha, occasionally leering in at a moaning Yason. He was lost in thought, and did not notice that Serina and her companion had stopped dead. Reminiscent of earlier, he collided with their static forms.

'What have you done to these Yason?' Orha hissed treacherously.

'Me?!' Haren flared. 'I haven't done anything! And if I have, it was on the orders of that repugnant old goat Tazma.'

'But you still carried out those orders.'

'I didn't wanna lose my job!'

The slither of daggers being drawn from their scabbards gave Haren little warning as Orha pivoted to face him, blades shining blood red as they caught the light of the torches.

'Let them out.' The Yason growled.

'It would be more merciful to let them die in here.' As soon as he said it, Haren realised his own stupidity. Invoking the anger of the strongest and last of the Four Warriors would be a very bad move if he wanted to remain in one piece. But Orha had his daggers, yet Haren was weaponless. He just hoped that the Yason would not allow anger to take control, ignoring the dictation of honour.

Orha clenched his teeth, fighting back blind rage. He couldn't kill Haren, no matter how much he wanted to. This human was their only way of finding Calintz. His breath hissed between his teeth as he lowered his daggers.

'We have to find Calintz. Come on.'

Haren smirked. He had figured that Orha would not have the guts to murder him. This, in his opinion, just proved his theory that Yason were weak. They walked on in silence for a few minutes, then Serina called to him over her shoulder.

'Where is he?'

'Just up ahead.' The cleric grunted nonchalantly, his eyes glinting. Fear prickled in the pit of his stomach, sending a chill down his spine. They had to get out of here, and fast. He strode more quickly in order to lead the way.

'Clive?' he enquired to the shadows in an open cell to his left.

'Yeah, I'm here.' A nervous voice answered.

'Well have you got him?' Haren replied, exasperated.

'Yes.'

'Come on then! We gotta get out before Tazma comes to check on him!'

'Right.' Clive appeared at the door of the cell. 'I've told him everything he needs to know.' He paused, staring at Haren's two companions curiously. 'What are you doing here?'

'We've come to get Calintz.' Serina replied earnestly.

'Do you have a problem with that?' Orha brandished his daggers in a menacing fashion. Clive backed away, his eyes wide in fear.

'N-no, not at all…'

'Serina?' A disbelieving voice croaked from within the prison. A smile of ecstasy spread over the small woman's features and se sprang forward into her husband's arms.

'Are you all right?' she whispered hoarsely.

'I think so. Why are you here?'

Serina opened her deep sapphire eyes, bottom lip trembling. 'I couldn't just let you be killed. Her husband's strong grip around her waist tightened.

'Thank you. But you shouldn't have come. It's you they want; if they have you, then Tazma's plan is sure to succeed. It is only uncertain if they have me.'

The Chi torches flickered, as if hit by a sharp gust of wind and then went out, plunging the foul corridor into darkness.

'So…' crooned a deep voice. 'You've decided to join us, then.'

The silence which followed was almost tangible. No one needed to ask who was speaking so coldly out of the blackness.

'Welcome, Serina. Welcome to the beginning of the end.'

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Hehe... Hope you enjoyed this chapter, there's more to come! Much more... Tjis chapter was a bit cliched, I know...But please leave a review anyway, you know I love reviews. Constructive Criticism appreciated, too!! Thanks! 


	7. Chapter 7

Enjoy! Sorry I haven't updated in a while...

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Chapter 7: Familiar Battles

Clive knew that the General had always been fond of ceremony and melodrama, but this was just plain ridiculous. He could hear Serina's frightened, uneven breath near him, and frowned in determination. She had to be protected, for the sake of the Yason. Clive drew in a sharp breath as the crescendo of footsteps approached. Even the tortured Yason were silent now.

'Why do you not speak?' Tazma's cold voice was dripping with malice. The footsteps were growing steadily nearer, and Serina's breath was coming in sharp gasps.

'Why do you not respond to a friendly greeting, Serina? I sense a lamentable lack of manners.' He murmured with a sickening hint of amusement.

'Tazma, we don't feel like games.' Haren called roughly. 'Where are you?'

'Why, I'm here.'

A ruby glow began to pulsate around his well built form, which was about seven paces from where Orha stood. A nasty grin was splayed on his crude features, and he held his arms out in front of him, fingers pointing to the ceiling.

Orha, Serina and Clive gasped. The latter two had witnessed the summoning of Familiars many times, but Orha had experienced it, and his mind was racing.

'My_ familiar, Death Raven, would be no use in this enclosed space; its wingspan is very large. We have very limited weaponry: My daggers and Haren's fists. I doubt Clive has anything useful, and there is hardly any Chi for Serina to manipulate here…Yes. The odds are against us.'_

His eyes narrowed, still fixed intently on his enemy, and he bit his lip.

'_But the fact that he has a Familiar is completely illogical; he's only half Yason. He must be incredibly powerful. No half blood, save Queen Amila, has ever been able to do this…'_

Orha was pulled back to reality as the glow around Tazma's hands intensified, as did the malevolence of his wide, frog like grin.

'I have a surprise for you.' He sneered. 'The three of you will be _dead_ scared before long. Haren! Clive! Get over here and cover me.'

'_Ah… So he thinks they're still on his side…'_

Clive drew himself up to his full height, hurling a glance of veiled significance at Haren. They marched in unison to either side of the General. The crimson glow flowed to Tazma's legs, then through his feet, forming an obscure symbol on the ground beneath them. The symbol began to pulsate, energy from it making the small hairs on the back of Clive's neck stand on end. A shape seemed to be appearing behind Tazma, and an indistinct buzzing filled the air, growing to a climax in a few seconds. The elegant, spined back of a small dragon took shape from the hazy, spiralling mist behind the General, its scales glinting and reflecting off and unseen light source. An aura of amber smoke drifted about its thick ruby legs, and it snorted once as it pivoted gracefully to face the same direction as its master.

'Well, Tyamat. Your time has come.' He murmured. 'Time for the commencement of the destruction of the Yason and human races!'

Tyamat growled, smoke billowing from her nostrils. She slowly and almost luxuriously unfolded her translucent, veined wings, and took a tottering step towards Tazma, who nodded approvingly, like a parent overseeing the first steps of their child. The ground shook slightly, loose fragments of rock plunging from the ceiling and causing all except the General to instinctively shield their heads with their arms.

'Good…' Tazma gloated, his eyes shining with virulence. 'But surely you are capable of far more than that?'

His familiar flung her head back and roared-a deep, rich, horror inspiring battle cry, the terror of which was increased by the regiments of needle sharp, gleaming teeth in her gaping mouth. She lowered her piercing gaze to strike them, fangs bared, flecks of foamy saliva dotting her upper lip.

'She's just getting warmed up. I can see this battle-or slaughter- is going to be _heated_.'

Serina was paralysed with fear, her liquid cobalt eyes as wide as saucers. Calintz was supporting her from falling into a dead swoon; her trembling form was clutching him in terror. He was calm, composed in a sort of detached reverie, his cold, steely gaze raised to challenge that of the dragon. Tyamat's calculating eye moved to Orha, who was positioned in a half crouch. He was holding his weapons tightly, ready to spring if anything came near the rightful queen.

The smoke curling from the dragon's nostrils had become thicker and darker in colour, and a deep growl was set in her throat. Suddenly, she curved her elegant neck sharply to the side and spat out a torrent of fire. The pile of rocks set against the wall at which it was aimed glowed red, flames crackling as they danced over the surface.

Positioned beside Tazma, Clive began to shake violently. The General cast an amused, sidelong glance at him and gave a silky chuckle.

'Well…I suppose you can't have 'manslaughter' without 'laughter'…'

Clive drew in a sharp, dignified breath and with some effort, stopped trembling. An enraged emerald fire smouldered in the depths of his emerald eyes as he glared at his former leader, and he shifted slightly where he stood.

Tazma turned his attention back to his familiar.

'Now. One good burst of flame should do it. They won't know what's hit them.' He chortled. 'Literally. This is your moment, Tyama-AARGH!'

A hiss and the rancid stench of searing skin filled the dense atmosphere. Clive had lifted and pressed one of the red hot stones to Tazma's forearm, where he knew his Vindi to be; that snake like, decorative tattoo.

All erupted into chaos. Clive dropped the stone, gasping and staring at his scorched and blackened hand. Tazma doubled over in pain, the red aura around hi body fading as he lost control of the masses of fire Chi he had gathered. He was moaning through gritted teeth; on his knees, pressing his arm into the earth and grinding it into the filthy floor, sobbing in pain. His control over his familiar broke, and she turned her head towards him.

A split second.

A heartbeat.

Then she charged, diving and roaring, a tangle of teeth and wings. A flash of blood red light. When Calintz opened his eyes they were gone without a trace, except for a ruby red pendant lying innocently on the blackened ground. He picked it up and stowed it in his pocket without a word.

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Hope you enjoyed it! I haven't updated for ages…I've had so much work, sorry. Please leave a review, I haven't had ANY reviews for about four months now…  Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, as is praise  There are more chapters to come…You'll learn what happens to Clive eventually as well as a little of his past. You'll meet a familiar character once again. And are the dangers really over for Calintz and Serina? 


	8. Chapter 8

I am rubbish at updating!!!! _ I'm very sorry to anyone reading this… And I complain that the reviews of my stories have dried up? *Hypocrisy*

Anyway, thank you to anyone who is still reading thus far in my terribly fragmented story, I'm very grateful _'. Please feel free to leave a review. *sweet smile*

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**Chapter 8: Progressive Digression**

The echoes faded, and a numb silence enfolded the dank corridor. The sooty, guttering torches had burned lower, dancing humbly as they looked toward a freeze frame of victory.

Clive was panting, his teeth gritted, sweat trickling down his brow. Serina stood motionless; a marble carving of a shocked queen. Calintz was beside her, his head bowed and grey eyes closed in a gesture of reverence. Orha was deathly pale, his lips set in a grim line. Haren twisted and turned frantically, searching for some vestige of Tazma or his familiar, his scuffling shattering the dreamlike silence as he pivoted to and fro in anxiety. Oblivion to each other was apparent, for the moment, at least until they were all sure what had just happened.

Serina, surprisingly, was the first to recover as her new found maternal instincts took effect. She rushed over to Clive, a worried expression on her face.

'Clive! Are you alright...Oh. That looks bad…'

She paused, a faraway look in her eyes as she sensed out the atmosphere.

'Argh! There's no water or ice Chi in here. We'll have to get you outside before I can heal you…'

The ex-cleric nodded, his face very white, breath coming in sharp gasps.

'Come on.' Serina kindly helped him up, and placed his uninjured arm around her shoulders to support his shaking body.

Calintz had been roused by his wife's concerned shout. He watched vaguely through half opened eyes as Serina walked to Clive and attempted to heal him. Calintz knew he should help, at least open his mouth and unleash some comforting words, but his mouth wouldn't move, nor his legs.

It was only when Serina helped Clive up, supported his trembling body so tenderly, was he finally roused. He felt an irrational and inappropriate pang of jealousy; it was only because Clive was injured that Serina held him so closely. Of course it was. The pale haired man blinked and called after his wife:

'Hold on a minute!'

The words he was about to say fizzled out on the tip of his tongue, and instead he channelled some celestial Chi into the torches to cast some more light on the dim corridor.

'There. But we need Clive's keys to release the prisoners.'

'Right' Serina leant over and gingerly plucked the bunch of grimy keys fro Clive's belt, and tossed them to her husband.

'I'll meet you outside.'

Calintz nodded once, and glanced at his two remaining comrades. Orha had sheathed his daggers and was looking pensive. Haren was somehow managing to look both quizzical and embarrassed at the same time.

'Damn…I've done some stupid things in my time, but I think joining the Holy Order of Eryu was one of the stupidest.' He growled.

Orha muttered to himself, obviously completely impervious to Haren's statement:

'When a being's Vindi is destroyed, they lose control of all their Chi, and that includes familiars. How did Clive know that?'

Calintz frowned and broke the reverie by jingling the keys.

'We can think about that after we free these Yason.'

He pushed one of the keys into the cell door nearest to him and turned it. It unlocked with difficulty, letting out a grating screech as it swung open. A rancid stench made Calintz's stomach turn as he stepped inside, and he peered round the gloom, half fearing what he might find.

A Yason woman lay inside, with her back facing him. Her dirty blonde hair was tangled and matted with grime and dried blood, and her torn clothes were dyed black with unspeakable filth. She rolled over weakly to face him, a silent plea in her terrified, bloodshot eyes.

'It's alright' Calintz whispered. 'We're here to get you out.'

Her cracked lips moved slightly in an effort to speak, and she winced.

'Here.' Calintz extended a hand. The woman reached feebly up and took it, her own hands icy cold. He pulled her to her feet, holding her steady.

'Where are you from?' he asked, knowing the urgency of this information, yet not wanting her to answer; she seemed to have forgotten what it was like to speak. She opened her mouth experimentally, and gave a croak. Frowning, she tried again.

'Y-Yason-Roven. E-Ep-pentar.' She gasped. Calintz gave an encouraging smile.

'You'll be back there in no time.'

'Bu-but the w-war. You-You're a human.'

'The war is over.' He stared incredulously. 'How long have you been in here?'

The woman drew in a few breaths of fresh air as she struggled to remember.

'Queen Amila. The Forbidden Magic had just…She had used the Magna Carta to defend Yason-Roven not a week before I was captured.'

A grim inner intensity flowed across Calintz's face into his dark eyes that glittered with passion. 'At least two years then' He muttered quietly to himself, giving a nod.

'Haren. Orha. These people aren't going to have the strength to get back to Yason-Roven on their own. We'll need to take them to Amabat to get them treated by Mistress Ladrinne.'

A horrified gasp from behind made Calintz turn his head in alarm. Orha had entered the cell, his glowing eyes brimming with tears of rage.

'I had some expectation of what we would find,' he choked. 'But _this_- if I'd known, I would have killed Tazma myself!'

The Yason girl, overcome by all the attention, began to cry softly, small sobs racking her frail body. Orha stepped forward and gently took one of her hands, a strange look in his eyes.

'It's alright, Iola.' He whispered. 'You'll be safe now.'

They led her slowly out of the cell, her eyes still shining with tears. Orha, still holding Iola's hand, turned to Calintz.

'I'll take her outside. Perhaps Serina can heal her a little.'

The girl gave another strangled sob and followed the steward of Yason-Roven up the corridor.

'Hey.' Haren was peering through the bars of a cell. 'There seems to be a human in here.'

Calintz strode briskly over, alert with curiosity.

'Here are the keys. Let's take a look.'

Haren stuffed a key roughly in the lock and tried to turn it. After a minute or so of exaggerated grunting and struggling, he steeped back, sweat beading on his brow. Calintz watched coolly, his mouth twisted into an ironic smile.

'You do know that's the wrong one, don't you?'

Haren gaped as Calintz casually pulled the keys from the lock, selected an old, rusty one, pushed it into the lock and turned. It swung open relatively easily, and Calintz grinned when he saw the fuming expression on his friend's face.

'Well, come on.'

This cell was smaller than the ones that Calintz had previously seen, but with the unforgivable luxury of a small window near the roof. Damp straw was piled in one corner, and a wooden bench lay along the right hand wall. On this bench sat the inhabitant; a well-built man with a once-handsome face of around, Calintz guessed, fifty or so. He raised his hand as they entered, deep brown eyes glittering with life. He wasn't in as miserable a condition as Iola, though his greying hair contained streaks of pure white, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

'Hey, get up.' Haren strode presumptuously over to the aging man, hands on hips. Calintz, however, hung back and gazed at the man with an expression of perplexity on his face. Where had he seen this person before?

'What's your name?' Haren interrogated.

The prisoner rose to his feet, fixing the ex-cleric with a level, pitying gaze.

'Anthony.' He croaked. 'Anthony Abel is what some call me, though I have been known by other names as well.'

'Raul?' Calintz gasped incredulously.

Anthony frowned as if deep in thought. 'Yes…That was the name I last went by, when I was with the Tears of Blood. Neikan put me in here after I tried to save its leader's life. Calintz, I think he was called…'

He trailed off, staring hard at the pale haired man standing before him.

'No…It can't be…' A slow smile illuminated his face. 'Calintz?'

'Good to see you again, Raul.' Calintz grinned. 'And thank you, by the way.'

'Where's Neikan?'

'Dead, hopefully.'

Raul gave a sigh of relief. 'Now I can rest in peace.'

Haren scowled. 'Don't talk like that, old man. You're not so old.'

The aging man gave a low rumble of laughter.

'Now, Haren. You have to remember the Celestial Shard kept me young. I'm nearly eighty!'

'That's not old.' Haren argued sulkily, trying to cover his embarrassment at having been so rude. Raul chuckled again.

'Come on, let's get out of here.' Calintz murmured. 'I'll explain everything later.'

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Well, well, well. The plot thickens! Tune in next time for an explanation of these befuddling events! (Yes, there are more chapters to come ). Pleasepleaseplease review! I haven't updated in ages, I know, but equally, I haven't obtained any reviews recently either. Even if it's just to tell me you enjoyed/didn't enjoy it. Thank you!!


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